


The Five Times Castiel Almost Blasphemed and the One Time He Did

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betaed, Blasphemy, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Hurt Dean, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mark of Cain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 17:23:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4573143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has not had the easiest of times over the years, but he resists using the Lord's name in vain. Still, sometimes things can become too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Times Castiel Almost Blasphemed and the One Time He Did

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to [Zeryx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeryx) for not only beta reading this and giving me some big help on the final part, but for also giving me this particular 5+1 concept in the first place.

Castiel's face was contorted with rage as he squared his shoulders and glared at Dean. “I gave everything for you. And this is what you give to me.”

Rain fell. Castiel kicked Dean across the alley like the older Winchester was just a ball. Witnessing the human’s resolve falter, after sacrificing so much, and after Castiel had rebelled -- it was too much -- because he had believed in Dean.

Castiel believed in Dean and the core of his being felt betrayed as the human quaked on the ground in front of him, covered in blood.

“Do it! Just do it!”

Dean’s cries fell on Castiel’s ears -- burning him -- and he almost blasphemed, the words there on the tip of his tongue. Instead, the angel grimaced and touched Dean who stilled, going unconscious instantly.

* * *

 

The stench of sweat, liquor, and vomit overpowered Castiel's sensitive nose when he arrived in Dean's motel room. He’d heard a small prayer from Dean and had rushed to his side. Of course Sam, without a soul, had been callous enough to leave Dean to his own devices.

There’d been an edge to Dean’s prayer that scared Castiel and as he leaned over one bed he felt his jaw tighten at the sight before him.

Dean lying in a pool of his own vomit; face down and not breathing. Castiel stilled the blasphemous words he wanted to say, to shout, and instead worked on getting Dean breathing again. He sat and pulled Dean towards him.

A touch cleared Dean’s airwaves and another set his heart beating again. Castiel cradled Dean’s head in his arms as he waited for the hunter to open his eyes.

“C-Cas?” Dean said hoarsely, his eyes red as he finally opened them.

“Never do that again.”

* * *

The Gas-N-Sip was quiet and Castiel was busy stocking shelves when it happened. He’d just grabbed a fresh crate of Snapple bottles and had carried it to the refrigerator he needed to put them in when-

“Fu-” Castiel cut the words, the “Christ”, dead as he winced at the pain that had been caused by the Snapple crate landing on his very human foot. Giving himself a moment to check that none of the bottles had smashed, Castiel retrieved his foot and began to hop on the spot, lifting up the foot he had hurt.

“Hmmm, perhaps I should buy some steel toe capped boots with my first paycheck,” wondered Castiel out loud to no one.

* * *

Castiel was unsure what it was that he was meant to be doing. Dean had made him stand some distance away from the rear of the Impala while he reversed it. Dean had said something about “making sure” he did not hit any of the cars that had been parked obscenely close around his Baby.

If he had not been getting by on stolen grace, Castiel suspected that he could have just moved Dean’s car for him with the blink of an eye. Instead he watched closely as Dean manouvered the car out of the space it had been parked in.

Castiel stayed in the exact same spot. Unmoving. Impressed Dean was able to move the car backwards from such an awkward position without hitting any of the other cars.

The Impala jolted back suddenly, Dean’s foot slipped, and the rear left tire rolled over Castiel’s right foot. Mouth opening -- false words ready to spill forth, because he wasn’t completely okay and he was going to have to waste grace on this -- Castiel stopped and sighed.

Dean poked his head out the driver’s window. “You okay, Cas?”

“Fine, Dean, absolutely fine.” His eyes may have said otherwise. He regretted leaving the boots behind.

* * *

Things were tough, the task at hand spiralling further and further out of control. Metatron seemed to have all the damn cards with the Angel Tablet in tow. Frustration grew inside him as he met with the Winchesters to discuss the Tablet.

Skipping past Dean and Sam’s insistence on making Star Wars references, Castiel regarded Dean more closely. Something did not seem right. Castiel told Dean he seemed different and the elder Winchester just shrugged off his remark.

Grabbing for Dean, Castiel gripped Dean’s right arm and pulled up his sleeve. The wicked brand contaminating Dean confirmed more than his worst fears. Dean calling it a “means to an end”, did nothing to calm the snakes coiling in his stomach. The mark was poison and they all knew that.

Castiel took a breath, and then stopped himself from fully enunciating what he wanted to say. Instead he settled for just “damn it” and Dean made him leave it at that.

* * *

When Hannah left her vessel, Castiel took to the road once more and at some point while stopping for gas, he texted Dean. The words were simple:

_**Where are you?** _

The reply from Dean had followed quickly enough. They were three hours away from each other. Castiel needed someone to talk to and he asked.

Dean was feeling generous. They met halfway. Sam went to a nearby bar, leaving the two of them alone in the motel so they could talk.

Castiel shed his coat and jacket. He accepted a bottle of beer from Dean, even though the alcohol would have little to no effect on him. Castiel sipped it -- unable to relish its taste.

“So she’s gone back to team dick,” Dean stated.

Castiel watched Dean take a glug of beer before answering, “Yes.”

“You okay?”

It had been some time since someone had asked him that question. Asked him without the expectation of "Yes" being the only answer he would give so he could be used as a tool to fight again. Dean wanted to know for Castiel’s own sake and it made Castiel’s heart beat just a tiny bit faster.

Castiel’s silence made Dean move closer. Castiel looked up into the hunter’s green eyes as he sat a few feet from him on the edge of the same bed. He saw the man he saved and then rebelled for. The man he’d brought back from the brink more times than he knew he should count. The man he’d betrayed more often than any friend ever should.

The man who had almost choked to death on his own vomit as he tried to drown his sorrows in a motel room not too dissimilar from the one they were sat in now.

“Dean?”

“Cas?”

“I do not think I am okay.”

“Why?”

Castiel looked at his beer. Unsure what his answer should be. Dean moved a little closer. Loneliness pressed down on Castiel, but he did not want to admit this to Dean. Twisting around to face Dean, Castiel sighed.

“I-”

Dean sighed. “Now you know how it feels. When everyone leaves.”

Castiel clenched his jaw, but did not reply.

An unhappy laugh, escaped from Dean and he shook his head. “Yeah. Welcome to "doing the right thing" -- awesome, ain't it?”

“Returning to Heaven was the right thing for Hannah. Really, for us all.”

“Yeah, but it still sucks. I know man. I know.” Dean grinned, a plan lighting up in his eyes. “What do you say we go shoot up a vamp nest? Take down some werewolves? Find somethin’ big and ugly, stab it until it stops moving?”

Frowning, Castiel stared at Dean.

“Come on, Cas, you'll feel so much better. Getting your hands dirty.”

“Dean... maybe you would but…”

“C'mon you big baby. Heck, we can just go blow off some steam at a shooting range. Anything, man.”

Castiel sighed, a feeling of defeat settling in his chest. “If you insist.”

Dean leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Castiel’s. Shock and surprise clamoured inside Castiel, but he didn’t move until Dean pulled away. Then Castiel was on his feet looking down at Dean.

“Dean, why did you?”

Getting to his feet, Dean squared off against Castiel. The fallen angel saw more than just sympathy on Dean’s face.

“God damn it, Dean, why now?” Tumbled from Castiel’s mouth.

Dean shook his head. "Forget it. Let's blow off some steam."

"No. EXPLAIN. NOW." Castiel glared at Dean.

Dean shrugged. “Look Cas, I don't know, ok? You're lonely, and I don't even know if you know what that is-”

“I know what alone is, Dean.” Castiel’s voice was icy. “Remember when I was working at the Gas-N-Sip? Living out of a stockroom instead of with my FRIENDS who I had traveled across the country for? Yes, I think that was what happened then.”

Sighing, Dean couldn’t hide the look of guilt on his face. “I know, I was an ass. Forget it, okay?”

“No.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean backed off a little. “We're both miserable, okay? Misery loves company. Stop thinking so hard.”

Looking down at his beer bottle, Castiel sighed. Slowly, he returned his gaze to Dean. “Why?” He asked softly.

“Because one of us needs to stop hurting and it’s not gonna be me tonight. We can go and have some fun, but this damn thing won’t leave me alone..” The hunter rubbed at the brand on his right arm.

Taking an uneasy step towards Dean, Castiel took in a deep breath. “You’ve been pushing me away.”

“Maybe I should stop doing that.” Dean closed the gap and placed his lips on Castiel’s again, his free hand snaking around to the back of Castiel’s neck.

This time, Castiel returned the kiss. Their breaths became short and sharp. Castiel’s spare hand reached around to the small of Dean’s back and pulled Dean flush against him. They talked with their lips and hands, the silence broken only by the rustle of fabric and harsh breaths.

Finally pulling away again, Castiel leaned his head against Dean’s. “Does it get better?” Castiel asked.

Dean buried his face in the side of Castiel’s neck. “It might, but I can’t make any guarantees. Now...” Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand and began dragging him to the door.

“Dean-”

“Let's go give some asshole a messy death?” Stopping by the door, Dean turned and gave Castiel a quick peck on the lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading.
> 
> You can share the fic directly on Tumblr via [Dreams from the Bunker.](http://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com/post/126686911340/the-five-times-castiel-almost-blasphemed-and-the)


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